


Need

by pocketmouse



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-18
Updated: 2010-08-18
Packaged: 2017-10-11 03:52:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/108046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pocketmouse/pseuds/pocketmouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Total PWP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Need

**Author's Note:**

> Written for kink_bingo, possession/marking.

"You like it, don't you?" Owen says, his posture casual but his eyes belying his fascination. He cups Andy's jaw -- long, strong fingers -- and runs his thumb over Andy's lip. Still damp with spit and tender from rough use, it slides easily and Andy turns his face into Owen's hand, unbearably turned on, shoulders shaking.

"No you don't." Owen pushes him back then, his tone soft, almost gentle in its rebuke, and coming from Owen it feels so much stronger. Andy can't help but make a small noise, but stays where Owen puts him, hand now wrapped in his hair, warmth against his scalp. "Tell me," he says instead.

Andy licks his lips. "Please." That's not it. "Owen, please --" he casts his eyes down. God, he can beg shamelessly _\-- so good at that, aren't you?_ \-- but he can't name it. How pathetic is that?

Owen leans back, leaving Andy bereft. He can feel it on his skin, even, as the cooler air hits. Owen is stroking his cock again, idly, watching him, even as his hand moves along the shaft, twisting just a little, thumbing the slick head. He knows Owen likes a good messy blowjob, but Owen's holding him back and it's not _fair._

"God, I can see it in your eyes. Look at you, you're practically gagging for it. All you have to do is say it, Andy. Come on."

Owen's hand is a tease, a promise but not a guarantee, and that's exactly what he needs, what this is, and he can't ever explain that, but there it is. He needs that promise the same way that Owen needs to know that he's not alone.

"I need to be yours," he blurts, heart thudding so loud he's sure Owen can hear it. "I -- fuck, I need to know you want me." And there it is, he can't have _said_ it, he _can't_. Because if that was why, wouldn't he want something more visible? More permanent at least? But Owen groans, a half gasp like he wasn't expecting that either, and he's jacking off harder now, fast and rough. Andy leans forward as far as he dares and Owen comes with a sharp grunt, his come spattering across Andy's lips and cheeks, another warm stripe landing across his collarbone before Andy breaks down and buries his face in Owen's lap, lapping at his spent cock to get the last taste of his come as well as to hide the burning prickle in his eyes. His chest is tight to bursting and he just feels fucking _grateful_, to be marked -- _like a fucking animal, what's wrong with you?_ \-- To be _wanted_, for the way Owen's hand clenches and relaxes in his hair, the beginning of a slow, heavy rub-down, for the fact that he thinks Owen just might get it, and all of his own accord.

He turns his head to the side with a little sigh, eyes still closed, and curls a hand around Owen's bare ankle.


End file.
